Before Jack
by rosedawsoncalvert
Summary: The Rose begins to wither a year before the Titanic sets sail. Can Rose keep her head afloat with both an oppressive Mother and an abusive fiancé? Rose finds herself drowning her sorrows in the arms of the handsome and charming Bill Calvert. All this before the tragedy, before the love, before the death, before Jack.
1. A Rose in Bloom

A/N: Hello everyone! This story takes place before the Titantic sets sail and will depict the many hardships that Rose faced before her path crossed with Jack Dawson. I will be posting a chapter every day for the next five days as I have written ahead. Enjoy!

**A Rose in Bloom**

Rose gathered her belongings from her posh London flat as her mother paced in the corridor.

"Your father left us nothing. How will we pay the debts he's acquired over the last 3 years?" Ruth Dewitt-Bukator pondered out aloud.

Rose stared off into space. She often dazed off when her mother went on conversing like she did today. She found much of what her mother spoke drivel and never really gave Ruth the credibility a daughter should. Rose often thought she was wrong to be so obstinate and uncompromising at a young age but felt she was being true to her nature. She also knew that life was too short to compromise.

"Your daughter is recalcitrant, you know that Henry. Finishing school has not tamed her as it has the Claybourne's girl. I fear one day she will defy me and I will be powerless to stop her. You spoil her so." Ruth often argued.

"Rubbish!" Henry would tell his wife. "It's a father's duty to indulge his daughter."

Henry had always sided with his daughter but now that he was gone Rose knew she had to make amends with her mother. Ruth often enjoyed persecuting her daughter, never concealing her disapproval of Rose's vivacity. Rose only felt pain now.

The rain poured down wildly outside and tapped against her window. Rose flipped through a book of published poetry but none of it called out to her. She closed the book and stared at the pattern on the cover. Red roses adorned the 1911 hardcover.

"Mother, I have packed the suitcases accordingly." Rose stated.

"How gracious dear." Ruth answered sarcastically.

At that moment Francesca, the Bukator's maid, scurried in. She had a handful of garments that had just been picked up from the tailor's shop. They were evening dresses recently purchased from the ever famous department store Harrods. Rose enjoyed looking at the dresses on the manikins but it was quite a different story when she had to wear them. The Bukator's had a penchant for fine and expensive things and the garments were none the less. Ruth had insisted on buying them despite their rather poor financial situation. Rose watched Francesca's expression change as she arranged them in the cupboard.

"It wouldn't take long to acquire the affections of a chap with a beautiful frock like this." Francesca said.

Rose was appalled but said nothing. She sat silent as she was taught to do by the many finishing schools she had attended in her youth. At sixteen Rose was beautiful. Yet when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a trapped little girl with no one who understood her, no one who cared.

"Tea is served." Francesca offered.

"No thank-you." Rose responded.

Ruth appeared in doorway as Francesca reluctantly curtsied.

"Tea is served ma'am" Francesca reiterated. "Although, Miss Rose will not be having any."

"Suit yourself." Ruth scolded as she walked away. Francesca winked at Rose and followed Mrs. Dewitt-Bukator out of the room.

Rose lay down on her white laced pillow and closed her eyes falling into a deep sleep letting her dreams lift her away from all the turmoil in her young life.

"Rose darling," Ruth melodiously chanted the next afternoon. "Please let me see what you look like in the blue dress I selected for you. The shoes were delivered earlier." Ruth declared ecstatically.

Rose was bewildered by the change in her mother's behavior. Yesterday she had been quite sour but today she seemed rather at ease. Rose obeyed her mother's instructions and appeared in the lounge adorned by the Harrods' garment.

"Flawless." Ruth beamed.

"Thank-you mother, it is a beautiful dress" Rose smiled.

"Come, sit beside me love." Ruth requested.

Rose walked over to her mother, tucked her dress neatly behind her and sat down beside Ruth. Her mother's green eyes looked especially spirited today. Ruth and Rose looked distinctly alike with their fiery red hair. It was obvious Rose had inherited her mother's good looks; although also apparent her temperament was more like her father's.

"I want you to know, you and I will survive this together." Ruth said. "Your father's death has not been easy on me, nor on you." Ruth carried on, "The only thing that that sets my heart at ease in knowing I have you Rose."

The rest of the night was spent reminiscing about Rose's childhood, her ballet efforts and the Dewitt-Bukator's travels to New York. Francesca even brought out the family album for the two women to peruse while they conversed. Rose went to sleep that night with a warm feeling in her heart. Maybe the void she had been feeling could be filled by her own mother. The woman, who had always appeared distant, may very well have deceived her.

Over the next fortnight Rose and Ruth had relocated themselves into a quant flat with two bedrooms. Francesca had spent an awful amount of time making the quarters as comfortable as possible although it was difficult to utilize the small space. Their former flat had been spacious and easy to decorate.

Rose and Ruth spent the evening at a play in London. After that they dined out and returned home shortly before nine. Rose was about to fall asleep when she became aware of a loud commotion coming from the living room. It was Francesca, sobbing loudly.

"Why Miss, why?" Francesca protested. Francesca's sobs waned as she walked back to the kitchen.

"Rose, will you prepare tea?" Ruth remarked calmly from the sofa in the lounge.

"Yes mother." Rose said obediently heading to the kitchen and instantly familiarized herself with the place. Rose was accustomed to being waited on as her youth had been one of great privy.

Francesca began sobbing again. Rose felt disheartened and placed her hand on Francesca's back as she cried despairingly.

"Where will I find work so late in the year?" Francesca wailed.

"It will be alright, I promise." Rose assured her. "You will find something, you have too."

"I suppose so ma'am." Francesca replied wiping her eyes.

The next morning Rose was not surprised to find Francesca gone. She gazed at the flat still unfamiliar with the place.

"Rose your behavior last night left something to be desired of" Ruth sharply asserted. "To comfort someone is one thing, but to entertain such a lack of decorum is another."

"Remember the help are just that, the help" Ruth said coldly. "They are not our equals and you must never give them the impression that they are"

Rose embarrassed, felt tears begin to stream down her face. She quickly excused herself, making a dash for her room so she could seek some solitude away her mother.

A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!


	2. A Heart to Heart with Mother

A/N: Thanks for reading everyone and for those that took the time to review! Without further adieu, the next chapter.

**A Heart to Heart with Mother**

"Rose, tonight is a big day for us." Ruth explained. "Remember the Dewitt- Bukator name is still held with high regard. It has obtained us an invitation to Mr. Hockley's estate; father of Cal Hockley. You know he has spoken affectionately of you in the past."

"Cal Hockley." Rose uttered disappointingly, as if the mere sound of the words burnt her skin.

"Cal is a prize," Ruth implored. "One you _must_ win."

Cal Hockley, the heir to the Hockley estate. Rose wondered what was going through her Mother's mind and it wasn't hard to figure it out.

"Mother, I am not ready to meet anyone, let alone…" Rose's voice trailed off.

"An opportunity like this is rare, Rose." Ruth shot back. "It is our only chance to redeem ourselves. Present yourself as best as you can tonight. If you fail to do this, all will be lost."

Rose couldn't believe what she had just heard. She felt betrayed. Her feelings of betrayal and despair weighed heavily on her. Rose knew that her mother was implying marriage. A union between Rose and Cal. How could her mother be so cruel? Rose wanted to cry herself to sleep but the dinner was tonight.

She gathered all the energy she could and prepared herself like a dish ready to be consumed by Cal. Rose curled her hair until small tendrils formed. She put on a peach coloured Harrods dress and applied rouge to her high cheek bones. Although Rose did not have a pence to her name, she looked like a million pounds.

The Hockley's owned a residence in the countryside but were having the cotillion at their London residence. The rooms were bright and lively and dancing music was being played by an orchestra. The most beautiful young women danced and talked all hoping to catch Hockley's eye and become the future Mrs. Hockley.

Rose stood beside the refreshments and heartily sipped on red wine. She was about to go look for her mother when someone collided with her. Rose's crystal glass slipped from out of her hand and the contents fell onto a man's pristine attire. Rose gasped as she glanced up at the man. He stood at six feet tall and was exceptionally handsome. Unable to control her whim Rose burst out in laughter.

"What are you- Rose?" The tall man questioned.

"No I am not Rose; you must be suffering from intoxication." Rose answered.

Cal joined in laughing.

"What a mess you've made, all in the pursuit of droll, I hope." Cal belted out.

"No, in the pursuit of intoxication." Rose answered with a pointed smile.

Rose had begun to feel awkward as a crowd gathered around her and Cal. The idea of the two of them being seen together bothered Rose. She knew that Hockley was worth a fortune but one could not mind the things said about his character. The dishonorable banter spoken about Cal had over a time been burnt indelibly into her head.

"I've heard that he's rather a ladies' man." Elizabeth had once told Rose with a scandalous whisper.

"Did you ever hear that Hockley had a relationship with a young woman? And after he jilted her he paid her to leave town so she would never speak of it again." Another acquaintance had added.

Rose closed her eyes.

"Pardon me, I will return as soon as I-" Cal explained, looking down at his soiled shirt.

"Alright." Rose smiled appealingly.

Rose turned her head only to see her Mother breaking through the crowd of onlookers.

"You stupid girl!" Ruth said starting to raise her hand but stopping dead in her tracks.

"Really, Mrs. Dewitt-Bukator, I didn't quite like that jacket to begin with." Cal said, reappearing beside Rose.

"Oh well I-" said Ruth speechless. "I really must go finish my conversation with Mrs. Rantoir."

"Right Mother." Rose said, the sides of her mouth twitching.

Once Ruth left, Cal raised his eyebrows and wiped away invisible sweat from his forehead. Rose let out a hearty laugh thinking that Cal might not be quite so bad after all.

A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!


	3. A Lucid Dream

A/N: Hope you enjoy the next installment of 'Before Jack'!

**A Lucid Dream**

"Will you marry me?" Cal Hockley asked, sincerely gazing into Rose's anxious eyes. Cal held up a sparkling oval cut diamond set within a silver band.

His eyes were shining almost as bright as the diamond itself. Cal shifted impatiently from one knee to the other as he waited for her to speak.

"It's breathtaking but I wasn't-." Rose began to mutter when she was abruptly interrupted.

"Of course you weren't dear. Who would expect a bachelor as highly sought as Cal to bestow them with the honor of hand in marriage?" Ruth said smiling as a tear welled up in her eye.

Rose knew those tears all too well, crocodile tears. The same tears Ruth had cried at her father funeral. Rose's thoughts drifted back to the day her father had died. Henry Dewitt-Bukator had lost all his money after loaning it to his brother Richard. Richard had foolishly invested over $120, 000 of the Dewitt-Bukator's life savings with a furniture dealer, who conveniently absconded after defrauding several other aristocrats. The news was too shocking for an ailing man of sixty with a heart condition. Henry died of heart failure. But the real tragedy was the way Ruth had mourned him, swiftly.

"I accept, Cal." Rose said amazing herself she was capable of such deceit.

"Good, it's not refundable." Cal said calmly.

Rose held out her dainty hand.

That night Rose mused through sheet music belonging to her father and played a few notes at the piano. Fur Elise was one of her favorite pieces because of the romance intertwined with it. Rose knew deep down that no one would ever love her that way, _especially_ Cal Hockley.

Bored at the piano she sipped a brandy and headed towards the balcony. As the liquor started to warm her body, intoxication began to consume her. The flat was high up and looked over the city of London. Rose began to lean over trying to imagine what it would be like to jump off and end her difficult life. She stepped back slightly losing her footing, falling backwards onto the balcony floor. Rose closed her eyes and a warm feeling enveloped her. A strange figure was walking towards her with hair that burned like the sun and eyes that shone like the sky. Rose wanted to reach out to him but he suddenly stopped walking. His mouth opened and a muffled sound escaped. The words resounded in her mind.

Rose's eyes fluttered open as she tried to remember what he had said. Then it all came back to her. "_I love you Rose_."

A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!


	4. Matrimony, Maid and a Mistress

A Matrimony, Maid & Mistress

Rose who had experienced a seemingly lonely childhood was now at the threshold of her adulthood. Girls she had grown up with were blossoming in front of her very own eyes yet she knew _her despair_ was not a fleeting sensation. Deep down Rose wanted to live life to the fullest, to make everyday count, yet something held her back.

"Lavender?" Ruth gasped. "I know it's your wedding dear, but you can't be serious." She rambled on incessantly. "Mark my words; you won't be content until you're the laughing stock of all of Philadelphia."

"Your precious Cal has already approved my choice of lavender for the bridesmaid's gowns Mother." Rose remarked cheekily.

Ruth glared at her daughter. Customers in the Harrods department store started to notice the commotion between the mother and daughter and began whispering among themselves. Rose's cheeks flushed. Mother had won again.

Rose knew that time was of an essence since her wedding to the well-to-do Cal Hockley was merely six months away. So she planned to spend as much as time as possible with her closest companion, Elizabeth Caulfield.

"Isn't it fascinating Rose, women protesting for the right to vote?" Elizabeth squealed delightfully, as her curly blond hair bounced. "I absolutely love that idea."

"Women voting, it's unprecedented Lizzy." Rose chimed in, ecstatically devouring a spot of tea. "Though, I certainly would like to have the chance someday."

Elizabeth continued perusing through a newspaper she had brought for a shilling from a newspaper boy. Her blue eyes widened as the headline drew her attention. "The White Star Line claims to have built an unsinkable ship." Elizabeth read out aloud.

"What? Really?" Rose answered not completely listening or particularly interested with the headlines.

As soon as Elizabeth had left to attend her drawing class, Rose heard a loud thud originating from the front door.

"My word." Rose cried as she swung open the door.

"Good'ay Missus." Francesca said apprehensively. "I have a good reason for being here." She added with a warm smile.

"Francesca, it's wonderful to see you again." said Rose smiling in return, still shocked at seeing her former maid at her doorstep. "Please do come in."

Once Rose and Francesca had seated themselves in the living room, Francesca began to speak.

"When your Mother let me go, I went in search for work. With all my luck I came upon the Hockley's and I've been working there ever since. I have come to know some things, things about Mr. Caledon Hockley that I think you should be aware of." Francesca said nervously. "Maybe, maybe I should just go." she said shakily rising from her seat.

"No!" said Rose firmly. Rose had a feeling what she was about to hear was just the thing she needed to get out of her matrimony to Cal, and to get back at her Mother. "Go on, please."

Francesca seated herself slowly and paused before speaking again. "He has a mistress, Rose. A woman he's been fooling around with her ever since the two of you became engaged." She stammered.

"My God." Rose cried, shocked at this revelation. Her eyes began scanning the walls as she was trying to digest the disconcerting information she had just been handed by her maid.

"I wasn't sure if you would believe me, but I knew you were different. I knew that you would." Francesca said sad to be the bearer of bad news but pleased to have the news off her chest.

"You have no idea what this means to me." Rose said quietly.

"I'm…I'm sorry missus." Francesca gasped, questioning herself. "I shouldn't have told you, I knew it was a stupid idea." Francesca added burning a hole into the carpet with her eyes.

"No, don't be sorry." Rose said. "What you've just told me is well- thank-you." Rose said breaking down into tears of joy.

"Oh, I've made you upset!" Francesca wailed, quickly jumping to her feet to make a quick exit. "Look, I should be getting back Miss Rose." Francesca said wiping her face dry with a handkerchief.

With one last smile she let herself out of the Dewitt-Bukator's flat, leaving a tearful but hopeful Rose behind.


	5. Lights, Camera, Action

Lights, Camera, Action

Rose, puzzled by her brief but insightful discussion with Francesca, paced the living room eagerly anticipating her mother's arrival.

_"__He has a mistress Rose. A woman he's been fooling around with her ever since the two of you became engaged__." _Rose recalled Francesca's recent revelation.

Rose sobbed loudly, warm tears streamed down her face. If she ever became an actress, with all the dilemmas in her life, she'd have no trouble crying on the spot. Just then her mother stormed in, battling her _brolly _shut after having closed the door on the heavy rain. In recent events, Rose had felt suffocated; but her dreams had been a great relief to her.

She thought back to the voice that had spoken to her. "_I love you Rose__."_ The figure that had hair that burned like the sun and whose eyes dazzled like the blue-green seas. Suddenly a glimmer of hope surfaced, maybe after all she would prevail.

Apparently, the longtime Dewitt-Bukator employee had handed Rose a legitimate reason to sever the engagement with Cal. No women in her right mind would marry a man capable of such deceit; surely her mother would see this and agree.

"Rose, you'd pass out if you knew how hard the rain is pelting outside. It's unbearable." Ruth said, dramatically brushing droplets of water off of her pristine fur coat.

_Not more unbearable then it is living with you Mother.__ Rose_ thought.

Rose ached for a day when she could be free of her mother's clenches. Maybe she could become a moving picture actress. It was hard to ignore that Rose was a rare bijou. A room could be filled with beautiful dames, but when she walked in, heads turned to get a glimpse of the stunning American beauty. Her mother had taken it as an opportunity to flaunt an unsuspecting Rose in front of London's wealthiest, in hopes of acquiring a proposal.

"And how is the soon to be Mrs. Caledon Hockley?" Ruth mused, as she patted her thin red hair dry.

"Mother, something urgent has happened. Something has been brought to my attention." Rose stammered, slightly fearful of her Mother's response.

"What might that be?" Ruth calmly inquired, taking off her scarf and placing it on the coat rack.

"It's Cal. He's been seen with another woman!" Rose stated passionately.

"Ha, that's absurd." Ruth said, dismissing her daughter straightaway. "Not our Cal. He comes from a good family. Darling, don't be mislead by the meaningless banter printed in the newspapers." Ruth stated condescendingly.

"He's been engaging in fornication Mother. It's not the first time, he's been…" Rose retaliated, losing courage at the last moment.

"Shut up!" Ruth fumed. "Stop this lunacy this instant! How dare you jeopardize what may well be our only chance to survive!"

"But Mother-" Rose protested before being rudely interrupted by Ruth.

"Let him have as many bastards as he wants. All I care for is that you marry him, and that we can use the Hockley money to tend to our Dewitt-Bukator comforts." Ruth injected nonchalantly, as her cold eyes glimmered with satisfaction.

Rose's eyes began to prickle and a pang of sadness overcame her. She knew another shower of tears was about to follow. "How could you Mother?" Rose sobbed despairingly; as she headed toward the same door her mother had entered through just a few moments ago.

"Where are you…?" Ruth called after, her green eyes widening with anger.

But it was too late. Rose was already out the door and scurrying down the steps into the cold wet London streets, in nothing more than an evening gown.

"Bitch." Rose muttered to herself. Why did she have to be Rose Dewitt-Bukator? Why couldn't she be Kitty Claybourne or Elizabeth Caulfield? Rose detested herself.

After several minutes of brisk walking, she stopped in front of a brightly lit pub and narrowed her eyes. Suddenly she began shivering uncontrollably, and instinctively pushed open the door to relieve her body of the cold. As Rose entered, the sound of the entrance bell resonated throughout the pub.

A group of men immediately began murmuring amongst themselves. Several bouts of laughter emerged from the back of the pub, but the men were undistinguishable because of a thick blanket of smoke hovering in the middle of the room. Although she was in territory previously un-chartered by a woman, Rose sat calmly at the bar and waited.

"Who knew the queen actually frolicked with the commoners?" A nearby voice jeered. Rose sulked in her seat for a few minutes until a filthy looking man, about twenty years old, approached her.

"What can I get you me love?" A warm voice ensued from the alarmingly tall waiter. "Me name is Bill by the way. And you are?"

"Rose, Rose Dewitt-Bukator. Pleased to meet you." Rose whispered, as she glimpsed around the room which was now seemingly quiet. Everyone had returned to their drinking and had quickly forgotten about the unusual visitor.

"Well then Rose, what would you like to drink?" Bill inquired looking at Rose warmly.

Rose smiled at Bill."How about a brandy for starters?" She replied, almost forgetting her predicament.

"Why didn't you just ask?" Bill smiled, returning shortly with a heartily filled glass. "If there's anything else I can get you, don't hesitate to ask, and I shall not hesitate to get it." Bill chuckled as he headed off to serve drinks to a group of men who had just arrived. Rose let her body absorb the effects of the brandy, as she replayed the spat with her mother in her mind.

"Excuse me Miss Dewitt-Bukator" A deep voice said. Rose looked up, not certain who the man was at first. "It's your Uncle Mitchell." The man smiled.

Of course, he was certainly not Rose's Uncle, at least by blood, but he had been a dear friend of her father's, whom Rose had known since childhood.

"Mr. Mitchell, how do you do?" Rose hesitated, aware of the implications of being spotted in a pub by one of her mother's acquaintances.

"Frankly, it's you I'm worried about, my dear. What are you doing here? You should be at home. It's rather late to be out… in a tavern I might add." Mr. Mitchell affirmed, as he sat down at an empty stool beside Rose. Mr. Mitchell took his jacket off and placed it snuggly on her damp body.

"How's Ruth? I've been meaning to stop by, but I've been rather preoccupied lately…" Mr. Mitchell's voice trailed off. Rose immediately knew what he meant. He'd been widowed recently; his wife of twenty years had suddenly fallen ill, and had died shortly after. Mr. Mitchell had been stricken with grief. After several minutes of chatting about cricket and the weather, Mr. Mitchell got up to leave. Rose handed him back his coat, and smiled graciously.

"It was nice talking to you; it felt good, like old times." Rose sniffled.

"Yes child, please stop by anytime, I would love to talk with you again. By the way, I'm such a fool; I forgot to congratulate you on your engagement to Mr. Hockley. It's a fine match Rose, your father would approve." Mr. Mitchell affirmed, giving Rose a pleased look.

Rose nodded and watched Mr. Mitchell walk out the door and passed the window, until his shadow disappeared into the dark London alleyways.

"So, I guess that means you're spoken for?" A familiar voice chanted. Rose turned around to see the handsome bartender aggressively wiping down the counters.

"Bill, you weren't eavesdropping on my conversation with the good Mr. Mitchell, where you?" Rose asked.

Bill laughed. "Me? Eavesdrop, why I would never, well maybe just this once!" Bill said, winking at Rose.

"Why do you ask?" Rose smirked, illuminating her high cheek bones.

"Just in case the bloke turns out to be a mug, here is my address." Bill joked, handing her the piece of parchment. "Cheerio, my Rose." With that he walked into the storage room and out of sight.

Rose glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper which read: _Bill Calvert, 952 St. Mary's Close, London._


	6. Beg, Borrow, and Steal

**Beg, Borrow, and Steal**

The last thing Rose wanted to do was set foot in the flat she had passionately raced out of a mere hour ago. But at seventeen years Rose's life thus far had been complied of a multitude of instances of being politely asked to attend an event or to take a tedious piano lesson or drawing class in order to better herself in the eyes of high society. And most recently Rose had been requested to parade herself in front of the wealthy bachelor Cal Hockley. Mother just wasn't so polite about it anymore.

After all Rose was not a child anymore. Anyone who set sight upon her shape could see the womanly curves of her body had taken form. And all the fairy tales her father had whispered to her right before he tucked her away safely as she clung to her doll in their warm and brightly lit house in London were fading away and becoming remnants of a soon to be forgotten childhood.

It was true that shortly after Rose's father had perished, she could almost feel her mother's animosity toward her. But most bizarrely, Ruth was almost incapable of being civil to Rose for even the slightest matter. Marriage was no different story. And now, at seventeen, Rose Dewitt-Bukator stood to marry a man whom she felt slighted toward and could hardly vision as the father of her children. As a young lady, Rose had never imagined being in love because she knew that one day her parents would present a suitor to her and that her faith would be sealed indefinitely. But this hadn't bothered her before, because she had never met anybody in her short life who had bestowed her with unconditional love. Nevertheless, this marriage was too sudden, too unnatural. Rose couldn't settle for a man who had more mistresses then he did money. Although, there was nothing left for her to do but lick her wounds and head home she could not help but elongate her journey back and wonder about the ideal man. For Rose, this was a man with a temperament like that of her fathers. A man who could show her things, even places she had never been. And to make matters worse, Cal called on her and her mother for tea last week to tell them that the marriage would take place in Philadelphia. Rose wasn't nearly ecstatic to go back to America. It felt like ages since she'd been back to her birthplace, the memory of America was almost dreamlike. And leaving England would be like leaving the memory of her father. It was too soon for that as she was still grieving the loss. Not to mention all of Rose's friends were here. Her mind drifted off to the shabby but rustically handsome bartender she had met at pub last night. She'd probably never see the likes of that bloke either, if she were to leave England for good.

Rose quietly slipped her key into the keyhole and gently turned the handle in hopes to avoid another encounter with her cruel mother.

"Ah." Ruth's voice echoed. "I knew you'd come home my sweet, once you realized your blunder. Ruth sang from inside the living room.

"I am your mother you know, and I do know what's best for you. If I recall, I was seventeen at one time also. In fact, that was the age I was when I met your darling father, when I fell in love." Ruth exclaimed, happily continuing her one way conversation.

"When you fell in love?" Rose exploded, as she unwillingly broke her silence.

"My sweet red Rose. Who is to say you will not grow to love this man, once you give him a child, preferably a son of course." Ruth's eyes grew cold and her voice serious.

Ruth continued, her eyes widening. "Listen; there is nothing worse in this world than poverty. And your father, no matter what became of him, what his end was, he always provided for me. I have never begged, borrowed or stolen and nor shall you." She emphasized.

"Thank-you for your candor on the subject Mother." Rose muttered as she pat of the remaining raindrops from her thoroughly drenched frock and started down the corridor. She had been taught to say only pleasant things no matter the urge to do the opposite. Rose knew that if she sought sympathy she was looking for it in the wrong place. Maybe there wasn't a soul who would care. But maybe somewhere there was.

"Well now what a stunning beauty she is." Hockley senior chuckled in awe as Rose glided across the room in a jewel encrusted custom made gown with a matching feather in her hair. Rose cleared her throat and smiled. This was her third time being invited to dine with the Hockley's and it still felt as awkward as the first time. She gazed at the grandeur of the estate somewhat dazzled by the spacious grounds.

After shoveling his dinner and drowning it back with several glasses of wine Cal smirked as his eyes skimmed over Rose's body like a greedy child. Rose aware of Cal's provocative behavior shakily excused herself and headed toward the ladies room. She wished her thoughtless Mother hadn't suddenly felt too ill to dine tonight. At the dinner table she had left behind her dear friend from finishing school, Cynthia Darling, who Rose had brought with her in case Cal got out of hand.

Cynthia was a friend of hers and Elizabeth's, and was also very engrossed in the liberation of women. During dinner, she had been trying to convince Mr. Hockley of the benefit of women voting. To this, Hockley senior simply scoffed and said, "a woman could not possibly vote because she'd be too busy bearing children and cooking supper to read the newspaper to keep up with politics."

While Rose was checking her appearance in the mirror she heard a shutter. "Cal, you startled me. What are you doing?" Rose questioned her fiancé, surprised to see him in the lavatory.

"I came to see if you wanted anything." Cal smiled calmly, shutting the door behind him.

"No, I'm quite fine. I don't need anything at all, thank-you." Rose replied.

"But I do." Cal jeered as he began aggressively kissing Rose's neck.

"Cal, this is hardly appropriate. Please stop it." Rose pleaded. But Cal wouldn't stop. He started to unzip her gown but Rose resisted him to no avail. Cal's whole weight was now on Rose and she was backed into the corner. She pulled away. Cal, not expecting a fight, fell back, but quickly tried to regain his balance, mistakenly pushing over a vase in his attempt.

"Slut, you'll do as I say! Or I'll tell your mother that the engagement is off." Cal threatened as he proceeded to slap her but stopped when he became aware that the fight in Rose was gone. Rose gulped, and Cal snickered as he came closer to her and resumed kissing her neck roughly.


	7. Hook, Star Line, and Sinker

**Hook, Star Line and Sinker**

Rose began to accept her life as one disaster after the next. It was as if even hoping to hope was useless. It had been a fortnight since the incident and Rose, filled with lackluster, had sequestered herself away inside her London flat with no desire to ever saunter outside again. Outside of her window Rose gazed onto the busy cobblestone street. The world was changing exponentially due to new inventions, such as the automobile. Rose's world was also changing, hardly for the better. She knew that the only constant was change, but somehow it was hard to accept what Cal had done to her that night on his property. She felt hollow and responsible for the rape, but as the days passed she instead became numb and indifferent to it. Rose gazed on as an affluent man assisted his young wife into an automobile as a crowd of spectators watched with awe. Moving pictures were the next big thing of course. Rose wondered what kind of stories would be made into moving pictures. Perhaps one of her favorite books Wuthering Heights. Rose imagined playing the part of Cathy in the moving picture; she imagined the mysterious and ruggedly handsome bartender Bill as the brooding Heathcliff.

"What has got you so disheveled?" Ruth remarked, after scrutinizing Rose's unruly appearance.

Rose slighted her mother and closed her copy of the Bronte classic, replacing it on the bookshelf.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment, for I have done nothing." Ruth stated. "Most daughters would be grateful if their mother arranged them a marriage. But you're not because you are an ungrateful wretch." Ruth fumbled with a lack of a better word.

At those words, Rose suddenly had a change of heart. She knew where she ought to be right now, rather who could cheer her up. "I'm fine, I just need some fresh air." Rose said finally breaking her silence.

Rose scurried of to her room and began dressing herself. She combed her knotty hair and styled it. Rose turned her head to the right and noticed that she had lost some of her baby fat. She put on a high neck blouse and tie, that hadn't already been packed for the voyage. She thought it complemented the side swirls in her hair. She placed some rouge on her cheek, grabbed her purse and a few shillings she had lifted from her mother's drawer and disappeared from her Mother's sight. Rose first stopped at a confectionary shop and bought some fags, matches, and a flask of gin. Rose felt satisfied as she filled her empty purse with her new possessions. As she was about to leave her eye caught something in the window that brought a smile to her face.

"Mother would pass out." Rose smirked as she eyed a jade cigarette holder. However, the jade holder was much more than she could afford. Rose decided to lift it. Rose nonchalantly re-entered the shop and walked by the newspaper section as she waited for the store's owner to turn away or get engrossed in another customer. In a moment's notice, a young boy with tattered clothes and rotten teeth came in carrying some boxes filled with confectionary items. As the man instructed the young boy where to leave them, Rose quickly dropped the cigarette holder into her purse. A surge of adrenaline filled her body. Exhilarated, she turned and headed straight for the door.

"Thief!" The shop owner shrieked. "That woman pinched something!" The shopkeeper shrieked again, this time at a higher decibel.

Now on the street, Rose began briskly walking and pushed through some pedestrians that had gathered outside a tailor shop. Rose tried to dodge an oncoming man but failed and he fell flat onto his feet. "Watch it, why don't you" The man scolded while brushing of scuff from his trousers, as his wife tried to help him back on his feet.

"Pardon me." Rose muttered, as she bolted down a side street and out of the eyeshot of the shopkeeper.

It dawned on Rose that she'd better make herself scarce so she changed her trajectory and headed toward the London Night Tavern. Meanwhile, she lit a fag. Almost instantly, Rose exploded in a bout of coughs as the smoke burned her lungs, causing her diaphragm to expel its presence.

"Tastes horrible." Rose observed. Rose was adamant however. She took another drag of the cigarette and this time the burn down her esophagus and lungs was much less displeasing. Rose sulked as she rummaged through her handbag, stopping after she felt what she was looking for. She took the handmade jade cigarette holder out and placed the fag inside. "Splendid." Rose affirmed just as she realized she was outside of the London Night Tavern.


	8. Eat, Drink and Be Merry

Rose felt her body begin to thaw as she walked into the centrally heated public house. She hadn't brought an overcoat and the London weather had been quite unforgiving for early spring. She was certain that there would be magistrates milling about the streets looking for her so she thought it would be wise to seek refuge in an inconspicuous place like the London Night Tavern. Rose let out a sigh of relief when she noticed it had started to rain cats and dogs outside. The magistrates would probably succumb to the bad weather and head indoors for a spot of tea.

Rose sought a table near the back of the tavern where it was dim and she could discreetly gather her thoughts. A lot had happened to her in the last few weeks. Rose could barely recognize herself anymore when she looked into a mirror. She went from a moderately happy youth to a completely morose and somewhat delinquent young lady. Her descent into nihilism started when she was forced into a loveless relationship with Caledon Hockley. Cal was rich and had more money to his name than all of Rose's family and friends put together. The only thing he seemed not to possess was a conscience or a moral compass. In fact, Rose had had to sit through a number of dinners, theatre shows and wildly arduous operas with Cal since the night he had forced himself on her. However it hadn't escaped her that he never once showed a modicum of remorse for what he had done to her that harrowing night.

Just yesterday they had spent the entire day at the Hockley's countryside manner where Cal had showered Rose with elaborate gifts. Last month he had given her a custom made velvet coat with white fur cuffs. Before that he had tried to buy her affection with an ivory white fur stole with a matching hand muff. Yesterday however, Cal had outdone himself by bestowing her with a black plumed hat, mousquetaire gloves and a one of a kind hand-made lace parasol imported from Paris. He said it was an early wedding present but Rose knew that buying expensive things made Cal feel powerful. And forcing her to marry him was just another facet of Cal's need for power and control.

Just as Rose began to doubt her little escapade in town, the exact person she'd been hoping to see again walked out of the storage room and behind the bar. It was Bill Calvert, the ruggedly handsome and alarmingly tall bartender. Bill had managed to lift her spirits last week; a hard feat to accomplish in light of her recent trials and tribulations. He had also given Rose his address the last time she'd been there.  
However, like a bona fide lady, she had thrown out the paper thinking that it lacked propriety to keep another man's address when she was practically halfway down the aisle.

As Rose watched Bill with intrigue from her a table, a short shabby looking waiter came to take her order.

"What can I get for you Miss?" The waiter muttered with little enthusiasm as he scribbled something into a book.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could send Bill over as I don't remember the name of the drink I had last time and I was hoping he'd remember." Rose stammered on, certain she sounded absurd to the disgruntled waiter.

"Oi Bill, there's a lady over here that wants to speak to you!" the waiter shouted, displaying a mouthful of rotten teeth before heading over to tend the bar. Bill glanced over at Rose and disappeared into the kitchen momentarily. A few seconds later he strolled over to Rose's table with a steaming cup of earl grey tea and a handful of scones in hand.

"Brought you something to warm you up love, 'tis a little early for drinking don't you think?" Bill grinned voicing his concerns.

"Actually, I came to see you, Bill." Rose revealed in a lowered voice, practically whispering his name.

Bill looked deeply into Rose's green eyes with approval. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Rose smiled at Bill wondering if she was mad or simply experiencing a lapse in judgment for even considering doing what she was thinking of doing. Bill sat up straighter, trying not to hunch and began running his hands through his brown hair in deep thought. "I'm off in fifteen minutes and I was thinking I could take you out, if you'd like?" Bill offered laying the charm on thick.

"Actually that sounds fantastic." Rose said jovially, secretly thinking about the implications of being caught with any other man while she was betrothed.

Rose gingerly sipped her tea as she waited for Bill to get his things in order. Surely as he had promised fifteen minutes later he smiled and gestured to her that he was ready to leave. Rose was flattered that Bill had taken such an interest in her and she was really curious about what the night might hold for her and the handsome Bill.

"I was thinking of taking you to one of my mate's fish and chips shop by the river. The best you'll ever try in the whole of England I tell you. What do you say?" Bill offered raising his eyebrows.

"Well I think that's a wonderful idea, I haven't had good fish and chips in ages and I'm simply famished." Rose squealed in delight.

Rose and Bill sat down at a table when they arrived at the quaint Fred's Fried Fish Shop. They both ordered the halibut and a side of chips. While they waited for their order to be made, Bill brought over two mugs of brown ale.

"Are you trying to get me drunk and into your bed?" Rose said laughing at the beers.

"Not at all, trust me when I say you'd want to be in your faculties if you were in my bed." The twenty year old bartender replied cheekily.

Rose and Bill laughed for a bit until the waiter brought over their delicious plates of hot food. Rose inhaled her fish and was delighted to try ale for the first time. She was used to only dining at expensive and upper class restaurants and didn't know it was possible to have a meal without the intrusion of a waiter's head over her shoulders.

Bill stared at Rose as she finished the last of the soggy chips and folded the vinegar ridden newspaper up. "Good, right?" Bill pointed out. "I never eat better anywhere else in London."

Rose acquiesced. "Where to now, do you want to take in the air by the Thames?"

Bill agreed and they headed toward the River Thames, taking note of the nearby scenery on their stroll.

"My father was one of the workers who laid the foundation for the London Tower." Bill pondered out as he took in the elegance of the bascule and suspension bridge. "It's a beauty isn't it?"

"It really is, and it makes things much more convenient" Rose added with a pointed smile.

Bill and Rose decided to head back when it started to drizzle again. The rain started coming down hard so they decided to briskly tread back to the tavern since Bill lived across the street and had a brolly in his flat. From there, Bill insisted on walking Rose to her flat as it was getting late and it wasn't safe for a lady to be unescorted. As Bill and Rose turned into the street of Bill's flat, Rose was completely thrown of guard as she saw three well dressed men at the end of the street. She knew all three men by face but only knew the shorter man who was smoking a cigarette by name. It seemed as though they had just been in the London Night Tavern and were jostling around with each other because of a cricket match outcome. Anthony Barton was one of Cal's collegiate mates. Cal had attended the elite Oxford University and had become fast friends with Anthony during his tenure in academia. Rose suddenly became worried of the connotation of being seen alone with Bill.

Suddenly a light bulb went off in Rose's head. If she had an affair with Bill, and it came to light, that would render her unworthy of taking a husband by society's standards. Anthony would surely tell Cal if he suspected she was seeing another man.

Ruth's words resonated in Rose's mind. _"Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name." _ Ruth would often repeat these words like a broken record to Rose, whenever Rose complained about the union with the Cal Hockley.

Rose came to the conclusion that the objective was not to be discreet as she had initially thought, but to be seen by someone who would sully Rose's good name in the eyes of the Hockleys. Rose didn't care what measures she had to take, she was not going to be sentenced to life with Cal. She wanted her freedom, from her mother and from the arrangement with the Hockleys. If having an affair with Bill Calvert was the only way of releasing her from this engagement, she was set on doing it. At this, Rose gently reached for Bill's hand.

As Rose clasped Bill's hand in hers, Bill seemed startled at first, but Rose's affection gave him the assurance he needed. Rose decided to step it up a notch. She raised her gloved hand to his face and pulled his head into hers for a kiss.

A barely audible voice in the background could be heard asking, "Is that Rose Dewitt-Bukator?"

Rose continued passionately kissing Bill, absolutely ecstatic that one of Cal's minions had seen her acting deplorably. She was certain that kissing Bill would void her relationship to the miscreant Cal Hockley. Rose and Bill headed upstairs. As soon as they were inside, Rose was completely convinced that sleeping with Bill was the best thing to do. She started to undress herself, slowly without a care. Bill was flabbergasted, completely thrown back by Rose's sultry and overtly seductive behavior.

Bill at once broke the silence "Rose, it's not necessary that we do this." he stated. "I know that you are an engaged woman and to a Hockley heir at that."

"I've never wanted anything more." Rose whispered lifting her petty coat off of her body."Please don't deny me." Rose said as, she lifted both of Bills hands and placed them on her pounding chest.

Bill green eyes widened, his cheeks faintly turning red. Rose then turned around so that he could loosen the laces of her corset. Bill found his shaky fingers unwillingly complying with her request. After the corset had finally come off, Rose took Bill's hand and led him to the bedroom. She lifted of her chemise revealing her full breasts, slowly climbing on top of him, finding him in a few seconds. Rose closed her eyes and let Bill smooth his hands all over her warm body. As Bill penetrated Rose she heard herself let out a pleasure induced moan, something she had never experienced with Cal.

Afterwards, Rose lay down beside Bill listening to his heart beat wane, thinking about the bold move she had just made. A few minutes later, she kissed Bill's chest with her full lips and began dressing herself.

"Don't go just yet Rose" Bill pleaded, sitting up in his bed.

"I have to." Rose said with little emotion, concealing her true feelings. "My mother might call on me."


	9. Lock, Stock & Barrel

**Lock, Stock, and Barrel**

Rose was halfway out the door when Bill grabbed her arm, holding her firmly so that she could not break free.

"Please Rose, stay the night with me?" Bill begged, his eyes pleading Rose to succumb to his request. Bill pulled Rose closer to him, gripping both her wrists, kissing her tenderly on the neck.

Rose sighed, looking left and right to make sure no one was eavesdropping on the young lovers."All right." Rose complied, finally succumbing to Bill's soft caresses.

The pair began kissing; using their lips to convey the lust they were feeling for each other. Bill took Rose's hand and led her through the door. Inside the apartment, Bill took one of his hands off of Rose's body for a split second, enough to close the door behind them. He began stripping Rose of her layers of clothes, just like he had stripped her away of her layers of resentment, insecurity and anger. He then began to undress himself, first his shirt then his pants. Driven with lust, he pulled out his pocket knife, making a clean slit down Rose's corset. As soon as the corset was off of her, Bill began intermittently cupping and then kissing Rose's breasts. Still unable to control his desire he lifted Rose off of the floor, pressing her up against the wall and kissing her in between breaths. When Rose's pantaloons were off, Bill gently entered her. Now firmly leaning against the wall, Rose found herself moaning with rapture after each of Bill's well executed thrusts. When the lovemaking came to a finale, Bill and Rose, covered in sweat, embraced each other. Rose put her petty coat back on, complacent with having made love for the second time. Rose was certain it was below zero degrees centigrade since Bill could not afford the luxury of central heating. Starting to cool down, the two made their way into the bedroom to get relief from the cold and seek warmth beneath the covers. Rose pulled Bill closer to her body and they held each other until sleep overcame them.

The sunlight was cascading brightly into the bedroom and Rose happily awoke to the warmth of the sun on her face. Rose felt content as she glanced at Bill who was still fast asleep, breathing evenly. Rose covered herself in a blanket and walked over to the vanity set where a carriage clock sat. She was startled to see that it was eleven in the afternoon and it had completely slipped her mind that she was supposed to have met Cal for breakfast in the morning. Rose began to panic when the realization of what had transpired last night set in. She was going to have to face a very confused Cal and her very angry Mother. Her Mother would have certainly made her excuses, possibly elucidating to Cal that she had taken ill due to the taxing nature of wedding planning.

Rose hastily began dressing herself thinking of how to explain her absence last night and at breakfast today. Bill began to stir in the bed, jolting up when he saw that Rose was getting ready to leave.

"You owe me a new corset." Rose pointed out, holding up the corset so that Bill could see the damage he had incurred last night.

"There's some lace in the cabinet by the sofa, I can try and fix it for you now." Bill suggested sheepishly.

"Alright, that would be lovely." Rose smiled, letting Bill take the corset into the living room. Rose combed her hair at the vanity until Bill returned with the corset a few minutes later.

"Will this work?" Bill questioned, handing the corset to Rose.

"Oh my!" Rose remarked. "Excellent handy-work, it's almost as good as new." Rose proclaimed as she put on the corset, Bill looking away to give her privacy.

Once she was dressed, she gathered her things up and looked for Bill who had made himself busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

"I should go. My Mother is probably furious with me." Rose said, joining Bill in the kitchen momentarily.

"Don't go just yet!" Bill sulked. "I made us flapjacks, it's all hot and you should really eat something before you go!" he added trying to appeal to Rose's sense of etiquette.

"I really must get going. I'm sorry." Rose apologized. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Rose said, looking guiltily at the table laden with food.

"I don't think you should go back, to them!" Bill said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "It sounds as though you have no interest in marrying this bloke Cal." He exclaimed pouring a cup of coffee for Rose and handing it to her.

"It's not that simple, really it's actually quite complicated." Rose divulged as she sat down at the table and began to nibble on a flapjack.

"I don't understand what you're trying to prove, just tell him you want out of the engagement and be done with it." Bill urged as he bit into flapjack.

"I can't." Rose said firmly, closing the gap between her and Bill, and politely kissing him on the cheek.

"I have to go." Rose emphasized putting the cup of coffee back on the table.

"Okay." Bill said reluctantly. "Just be careful and please let me know how you are doing!" He said emphatically, getting up to see Rose off.

"I will." Rose agreed, opening the door to leave. "I had a wonderful time last night and today even." Rose added, smiling at Bill one last time before making her way downstairs.

Rose turned the key slowly to open the lock to the Dewit-Bukator's flat. She placed her ear against the door, listening eagerly to see if her Mother was waiting to lunge the instant she walked in. Appeased that she heard nothing, Rose turned the handle and entered the flat, careful to make only nimble movements towards her bedroom. Just when Rose thought she was in the clear, her mother walked out of the powder room which lay adjacent to hers.

"Rose, my dear, are you alright, I was worried sick about you?" Ruth questioned, seeming genuinely concerned at Rose's whereabouts.

"I'm fine Mother." Rose said, startled at the sight of her Mother.

"That's good." Ruth sighed, wearing an indiscernible look and giving Rose a once over.

Rose was certain her Mother thought she looked disheveled but nonetheless nothing was mentioned about her appearance.

"You missed breakfast. I must say that Cal was rather distraught. I told him you had been having trouble sleeping due to the stresses of selecting your wedding gown." Ruth explained. "He agreed to meet you for dinner tomorrow instead." Ruth carried on, as she sat down daintily on the couch.

"Alright, that's fine." Rose said, confused at her Mother's reaction to her unruly behavior. "I think I'll change and then I can make us a pot of earl grey if you'd like?" Rose said returning her Mother's civility.

"Actually, that would be splendid." Ruth stated as she began to crochet a blanket she had started last week.

Rose darted into her room, completely shocked that her Mother had not made any mention of her unaccounted absence. Rose decided to quickly bathe and once she was back in her room she picked out a plain long sleeved and high neck dress to wear while she was having tea with her Mother. As soon as she was dressed she opened the door to head to the kitchen but was taken aback as the door would not budge. It seemed that the door had been locked from the outside.

"Mother!" Rose called loudly, panicking from inside her room. "The door has been locked, I can't seem to open it!" Rose cried out in a higher octave. Rose began banging on the door loudly, trying to get her Mother's attention.

Ruth continued crocheting in the living room and did not bat an eye at her daughter's pleas or cries.

She was smug that her plan of keeping her daughter locked away in her room until April was going smoothly and that that Rose had fallen victim to her deceit. It was mid March and Ruth thought that if she didn't keep a close eye on Rose, the whole wedding and arrangement with the Hockley's would be comprised. Ruth needed the marriage to go through desperately because she was running out of money and had even had to sell a few of the Dewit-Bukator's heirlooms to pay for the flat and all the expensive dresses and gowns that Ruth and Rose wore to maintain an air of aristocracy. Ruth finally grew tired of listening to Rose's relentless cries and decided to go for a long walk. She put on her pea coat, leather gloves and a scarf, and quickly left the flat to get a peace of mind.

Rose had spent the last twenty-four hours on the floor in her bedroom sobbing and shouting at the top of her lungs, trying to persuade her cruel Mother to let her out of her bedroom. Finally when Rose had let her guard down, completely certain that she was to live out the rest of her wretched life in her bedroom, her mother unlocked the door. Rose got up from the floor and peaked outside to see if the coast was clear. Unfortunately, Ruth was standing at the end of the hallway, a few meters away.

"Mother, do you plan on keeping me locked up for the rest of my life?" Rose demanded from the bedroom. "Are you going to act as though you are the queen's guard and station yourself outside my door?"

"Of course not darling, my husband may be dead but I'm alive and well." Ruth chanted. "I plan on going out as many nights as possible, and traveling the world once you're married.

"How nice for you, Mother." Rose said cheekily, still hovering behind her door. "You'll be set once the Hockley's become family, isn't that right Mother?" Rose shouted in retaliation.

"Cal is expecting you. I want you dressed and looking decent in the next hour." Ruth demanded. "If you do not obey me, there will be hell to pay. Do you hear me girl?" Ruth said walking out of the hallway to see who was tapping at the door.

Ruth set out a black evening gown on Rose's four poster bed. The imported dress sitting on top of Rose's bed was made from pure silk, and had white lace sleeves with floral accents on the collar and hemline. Ruth had been adamant about purchasing it, even though it cost seven hundred pounds and she had had to sell her late husband's pocket watch to pay for it. Next to the dress, Ruth placed a pristine pair of white kid opera gloves and a beaded black purse for Rose to carry. Rose had just been eating her breakfast alone in the kitchen and when her mother was finished laying out her clothes on her bed, she reentered her room. Rose gasped when she saw the black dress, as she had never seen anything like it in London. The passémenterie on the gown was breathtaking. As she observed the embroidery on the dress, her Mother came inside her room and handed her a purple velvet box.

"Cal has sent you gift, I think you should wear it tonight. It will please him greatly if you do." Ruth instructed, looking at the velvet box.

Rose gingerly opened the box and was surprised to find a pearl and diamond lavaliere pendant and accompanying necklace. It never ceased to amaze Rose, the extent Cal would go to impress Rose. It was obvious to her that money was no object to Cal and that she would live in the lap of luxury when she became Mrs. Hockley. Rose sat at her vanity, as her Mother set her hair in hot rollers. She gazed into her own green eyes and afterwards into the green eyes of her Mother, noticing the similarity in eye shape and color. It didn't escape her however there was an absence of feeling in her Mother's eyes. Rose thoughtfully applied make-up to her cheeks and then began dressing herself. When she was dressed in the gown she put on a pair of heels and the necklace she had received from Cal. Cal had sent word that he would be sending his man to pick her and her mother up around five, so she waited patiently by the door, unable to sit in fear of wrinkling her dress. While she was waiting her mother gave her a once over.

"I think something's missing." Ruth observed.

"What-."Rose started to question, when she felt herself being struck by her mother on both sides of her cheeks.

"Finally, now you have some color to you." Ruth said smugly.

Rose's cheeks began to flare, so she gently covered them with her hands to stop the burning.

**The Hockley's Residence**

Using his guillotine cutter, Cal cut the cap off two cigars and handed one to his illustrious father Nathan Hockley. Cal ignited both cigars with his pocket lighter and sat back in his British racing green chesterfield. He took a relaxing puff of the cigar as his eyes glanced around the spacious library that was only frequented for smoking and private conversations.

"Light the fire for us Trudy. It's getting rather cold." Cal instructed the servant that had just entered the room.

"Yes Mr. Hockley, straightaway." Trudy replied, scurrying over to the fireplace.

"Isn't Spicer going to join us for cigars?" Nathan amiably questioned his son as he rolled the cigar between his thumb and index finger.

"He'll be here later on. I sent him with the car to pick up Rose for dinner."Cal replied in a matter-of-fact demeanor.

"That's too bad. I was hoping the chap could update us on the furniture dealer scandal that Oliver has been going on about for ages." Nathan sulked, as smoke billowed out of his mouth into the oval shaped library.

Nathan Hockley was simply in awe of Spicer Lovejoy's field of work and he regularly questioned him about his detective work at the Pinkerton Agency. The Hockley's had recently employed Spicer Lovejoy to provide protection to them as well as to occasionally engage in ad hoc duties such as private detective work and running top secret errands.

"You can ask him about it at dinner." Cal offered up as he poured a handsome amount of whisky into a gold brimmed glass.

"It was an unmitigated disaster, and I'd like to find out exactly what happened before I leave for Philadelphia next week." The grey haired Hockley replied thoughtfully.

"It's a shame you can't wait a few more weeks and join us on Titanic's maiden voyage." Cal complained. "It's really going to be something. Far more luxurious than the Olympic, the ship even has an exercise room father."

"Really! Well now, I'm not surprised… It nearly cost me a small fortune for first class tickets for you, the staff and the Dewitt-Bukators." Nathan remarked, still shocked at the gargantuan prices of the voyage.

"Well, it's your fault entirely for wasting a first class ticket on Ruth. I'm sure second class would have suited that old hag just fine." Cal smirked cruelly.

"Seriously Caledon, a word to the wise, that's your future mother-in-law. Anyway, I was planning on joining you, but I have some business to take care of in of in the states." Nathan added as he let the ash from his cigar fall onto the black ashtray a servant had just set out on the table for the men.

"What sort of business?" Cal inquired, as he drank the dregs of his whisky on the rocks.

"A very lucrative opportunity has presented itself to me son. I need to arrange financing with my banker to invest in a company I've had my eye on for some time. They're going to be selling their shares on the New York Stock Exchange and I want to secure a significant interest in it before share prices skyrocket." Nathan revealed as a servant relit his burnt out cigar for him.

"Sounds very interesting indeed father." Cal proudly acquiesced, as he topped of his father's brandy.

"That leaves one last thing." Nathan wearily said.

"Oh, what's that?" Cal asked curiously, as he watched his father walk over to a mahogany desk and pull a velvet box out of a locked drawer. Nathan, smiling from ear to ear, sauntered back over to his son and opened the box.

Cal's eyes widened and he was taken aback at the sheer clearness and sharpness of the large diamond necklace his father pulled out of the box.

"It's a very expensive diamond Cal. It once belonged to a little royal who went by the name of Louis the XVI." Nathan bragged, raising his eyebrows with satisfaction. "Of course, it was reshaped into what you are seeing now. They refer to it as the heart of the ocean, or Le Cœur de la Mer." He added in a terrible French accent while handing the necklace over to his son.

"It's bloody heavy, I'll give you that much." Caledon observed as he lifted the diamond in each of his hands while trying to determine its weight.

"Yes, it is, six pounds to be exact. I just had it appraised and insured yesterday." The senior Hockley stated pulling out a magnifying glass to examine the details. "Furthermore, I want you to give it to Rose as an engagement present at the rehearsal gala when you bring her back to the states with you."

"What! Cal exclaimed, jumping in his chair. "That's hardly necessary father. Mind you, haven't I already given her a very expensive engagement ring?" Caledon protested, resenting his father's request.

"I know son. But I can't help to notice that she's not as thrilled about the engagement as her mother is." Hockley senior observed as he sat back in his chair. "Rose is a splendid woman, with a tip top upbringing. Giving her this gift will settle her doubts and make your intensions of being a good husband apparent to her." The senior Hockley asserted. "Do I make myself clear Cal?"

"Crystal." Cal huffed, "Women and their fascination with diamonds, completely eludes me."

"I think women in general elude you." Nathan happily smiled, patting his son lovingly on the back.

Just then the former cop, Spicer Lovejoy breezed into the room. Spicer had his ashy blond hair slicked back and was clad in a double-breasted waist length dress coat, with coat tails and pointed silk lapels.

"How are we gentleman?" Spicer happily inquired, "The boutonniere isn't too excessive is it?" He asked the Hockley men, as he patted his chest firmly.

"Not at all Lovejoy, in fact it's good you wore it. You'll look sharp for F.W. and his wife. They're going to be dining with us tonight as they're in England for a fortnight. Oh and I've had the chef prepare duck; it's going to be fantastic." Hockley senior boasted. "Are Ruth and Rose here yet?"

"Yes, they're in the living room. Shall we make our way to greet them?" Lovejoy asked.

"Just a minute, Spicer. I need to get your opinion on something first." Cal said nervously, in a hushed voice.

"Okay fellows; don't be too long, the ladies are waiting on us." Hockley senior said, as he lifted his drink off of his coaster and headed to greet his guests.

"What can I do for you Cal?" Spicer curiously inquired.

"I want you to follow my fiancé, and find out if she's…well if she's... you know…having sexual relations with another man." Cal finally spat out unwillingly.

"Do you suspect something going on?" Spicer pressed the young brutish American.

"Well, you see a friend of mine told me that he saw Rose with another man." Cal admitted weakly as he feigned admiration for a painting on the wall.

"What if there is another man?" Spicer questioned the eccentric aristocrat.

Cal walked over to a section of books in the library and began sifting for something between a volume of famous essays and the complete works Chaucer.

"I'm not really a Chaucer person." Spicer admitted sheepishly, as he saw the collection of books.

"Just a minute." Cal said sharply, smiling when his fingers found what he was looking for.

Spicer's blue eyes widened when he saw that Cal had pulled out a pistol from behind the library books.

"How did you get your hands on that?" Spicer suspiciously inquired, like a good detective.

"I'm very well connected." Cal proudly announced, his lips forming into a pointed smile. "It's a Model 1911 Colt, already loaded mind you." Cal said, placing the pistol into Spicer's hands.

"If there is another man, I want you to get rid of him." Cal ordered directly, brushing his dusty hands off against his black suit.

"Mr. Hockley, you must be aware that my duties certainly don't include murdering fornicators." Spicer objected with a worried look on his face. "You don't want to be rash about these sort of things."

"Your duties, Mr. Lovejoy, include whatever pleases me." Cal retorted. "Remember, you will be paid handsomely for this."


End file.
